


梦的投射

by ChauTreacle



Category: Hylics (Video Game)
Genre: Fetish, Headcanon, I added English version as Chapter 1 and hope you enjoyed it lol, Leather Kink, Long-Distance Relationship, Mild Gore, Other, Phone Calls & Telephones, Romance, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Surrealism
Language: 中文-普通话 國語
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25763254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChauTreacle/pseuds/ChauTreacle
Summary: Pongorma做了个怪梦，这梦和Dedusmuln有关。他不知道自己为什么梦到这些内容，只好从头开始回忆他们两个经历过的一切，试图找出原因来。
Relationships: Dedusmuln/Pongorma
Kudos: 15





	1. Projection of Dream

**Author's Note:**

> 【警告】文中包含Hylics和Hylics2主线内容的剧透。
> 
> 私设注意。  
> 文中有大量名词沿用游戏英文原文。  
> 主要角色的名字都太长了，大多数时候只能用昵称来叫他们（依旧很长）。当然，这只是我个人的叫法。  
> 我知道没人吃这对的，damn，但我就是觉得他们很般配，尽管他们在原作里连一次对话都没有。

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pongorma had a strange dream that had something to do with Dedusmuln. He didn't know why he had dreamed the contents, so he had to start from scratch to remember everything they had both been through to try and find out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the English version of this fan fiction.  
> Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
> 
> 中文原版在第二章！
> 
> A lot of head canons alert.  
> I hope you enjoy it <3

Without warning, Pongorma dismissed the last few knight apprentices and announced that his Order of the Dark Knights was officially disbanded.  
"Gibby's been defeated again, but you won't be of any use to him during his resurrection. You might as well get another job, before you go muddling through life as a knight. Goodbye and don't let me meet any of you little brats again."  
He moved out of the bunker the same day he made that decision. He had lived there for hundreds of years, but he had taken little luggage with him. He discarded all his armor, even his sword, keeping only a pile of odd helmets; half of the suitcase was stuffed with fashion magazines. Pongo wore a sky-blue mohair catsuit, cleverly up to date with the trends.  
He hadn't quite figured out what he wanted to do for a living (maybe as a freelancer, mostly writing songs and sunbathing in his spare time), but the idea of renting a house in New Muldul, a fledgling city in the mountains, the first warm place the sun hits at the end of the day, had been on his mind for a long time. It was beautiful, crowded, easy to get to, and he could always reach a few of his friends, but what finally convinced him to settle down was a sunbathing maniac in the city square, lying on the dome of the mine at the right time of day, stirring the tentacles on his face with the words: "Heat me , O sun." He would sunbathe in the morning, go home in the evening, and continue to do so the next morning, and so on.  
"You're blocking our way to work every day!"Pongo hears the people who work in the mines counting him like that. 

(This sounds even more interesting, doesn't it?)

The first day Pongo moved to New Muldul, he mimicked the sunbathing maniac, laying down next to him, smelling the grains of salt on him and took a little nap. Pongo's skin, hair, and the three pairs of sharp horns on his head were all deep red, blistering very easily, therefore he could only last a short while in the sun. Even so, he was scheduled to come in for a few hours a day to have his sunbath, not speaking, just enjoying it. After a week of sunbathing, the maniac spoke first.  
"Hey, I see you know a lot about it."  
"Not really, but it's fun to get a sunbath every day."Pongo said.  
"Fun? You did it just for FUN??!" The maniac sat up so hard that the tentacles on his body trembled violently and the grains of salt in the folds of his skin bounced gleefully. He glared at Pongo, then lay back down, and never spoke to him again.

(....)

Pongorma liked the alpine city of New Muldul, with its pretty surroundings, its crowds, its easy access, and its sunny, sunbathing comfort; but it was an archaeologist, Dedusmuln, a long-time renter of the city inn, who finally persuaded him to settle here. Dedus is one of his few friends, a bit of clumsy, but a good-natured one (who would never treat him rudely for no reason). Pongo hasn't figured out what he wants to do for a living, maybe play music while moonlighting as an archaeologist and digging for interesting things with Dedus.  
Pongo first learned about archaeology in their band. It was wayne who offered to take the four of them to the music bar. Dedus played Theremin, Wayne played electric guitar, Soms sang lead vocals and Pongo mixed the music, and judging by the end result, the new four-piece band was a success. A fan bought them a round of drinks during the intermission, and they all chatted while drinking. In this rare moment of relaxation, Pongorma removed his majestic helmet. He was well aware that he had a scarlet baby face that looked too mild and had to be concealed at all times. He had a pair of clear blue eyes, which Dedus said were the color of water, from real water that many generations ago was meant to be protected and precious with a cooler.  
"Speaking of water, it's got a long history. When water started to remember, we weren't even a seed, a larva, or an egg..." Dedus stared into Pongo's eyes and clinked glasses with him, "Every time I see such beautiful blues, I get so happy and can't help but feel sorry that I don't have a way to serve them all up in a paper cup."

(Well, I never thought he'd be so eloquent.)

Pongorma, who knew nothing about archaeology, was touched by his words (of course, there's also a bit of pity for Dedus, who prefers to delve into obscure things like this) and, with all the respect for Dedus, Pongorma asked:  
"What do you archaeologists do?"  
"Mostly it's digging up things underground. Machines, sculptures, paintings, household items...we rely on those antiques to understand how people used to live." Dedus fiddled with his fingers and counted his findings.Those were all objects that no one had ever heard of.  
"I see." Pongo realizes that he and the Order in his bunker, the sunken Viithorn Empire and even the reclusive Sages also "antiques", forgotten in the passing of the seasons and the changing phases of the moon. He had seen Dedus digging for paper cups in a desert of white sand, the moonlight shining down on him, and he was all alone. With only a small, pitiful shovel to keep him company, he looked very lonely. With that kind of efficiency, Pongo thought, it would be thousands of years before he would be able to unearth such a magnificent antique as Viithorn, even if he kept on digging without rest.  
Pongo thought back to what he had been through with Dedus and suddenly realized that he had disbanded the Order with that very idea in the first place. He doesn't care if he and his dead country are remembered for generations to come, but one thing he is sure of is that if a memory contest is ever held, Dedus, full of dreams and drive, will be the winner.  
The other certainty was that if he told Dedus there was a place called Yiithorn, then Dedus would definitely go digging for it, no matter how long it took.  
"Do you think...if I ever run into an archaeological problem, I could always ask you for advice?" Pongo asked cautiously.  
He couldn't remember how Dedus had answered him in the first place, but the answer must have been quite amusing, who had ended up happy enough to drink too much wine and forget all the details?

Since then, Dedus has visited Pongo often, but unfortunately their schedules are always staggered and they rarely get to do anything together. Pongo lives close to the Waynes and sees them often on walks, so he doesn't worry about them; he lives so far away from Somsnosa he rarely gets to talk to her and forgets to worry about her; but Dedus is a classic headache. His job was to go exploring all over the world, always at random distances from Pongo, and the feeling of being near and far was driving him crazy - Pongo really wanted to go archaeology with Dedus, and sometimes Dedus' destination was on a nearby island, but when he could barely find the time, he's energetic friend went by spaceship again to heaven and earth, whetting one's appetite.  
"When was the last time we met?"Dedusmuln asked.  
"Three months ago."Pongorma replied.  
"What about traveling together?"  
"That's three years ago."  
"I thought you weren't supposed to be any busier than me!" Again, Dedus thrust the souvenir of his adventure into Pongo's hand, his face full of incredulity. He'd changed his armor, his horns were deformed, his blond hair had grown longer - he explained that it was just the layered structure of seasonal growth, and Pongo could hear the crunch like the teeth of a rattle comb as he ran his fingers through it.  
"I'll have to train those rookies for future dangers." Pongo glanced behind himself at the parade of practicing knight apprentices, their gestures still as clumsy as ever.

(In retrospect, that seems like another reason to disband.)

"Gee, blame me for being confused. I should have called you." Dedus was suddenly pleased."It would have been a lot more lively if the bunker had a phone. I'll set one up here for you."  
"What's a 'fone'?"  
Decades later, Pongo can't remember if he ever asked that stupid question. Today, everyone has a telephone in their home, and communication has become faster and faster since the discovery of the ancient machine from a moster, Tyro. Pongo and Dedus talk on the phone almost every day, and Dedus takes the time to tell him things that Pongo can't see in person. There are times when Dedus takes the initiative to call more, and other times when Pongo takes the initiative more.  
Long distance phone calls are a big expense, and Pongo, who has experience taking care of a bunch of apprentice teens, is a careful accountant, and he remembers the bills best. But since he'd moved to New Muldul, the bill had increased rather than decreased: Dedus had become a minor archaeological star, the excavations had grown in size, and his schedule had stretched indefinitely to the point where he was now spending several times as much time away from home as he was living in the inn.  
"You're so confused, it's not at all economical to rent a room this way." Pongo always gave a lot of financial advice inadvertently."Might as well come and share a room with me, it's cheaper, count you in for a third."  
"So you're so concerned about numbers."Dedus on the other end of the phone pondered for a moment, "What difference does it make if it's more or less?"

(There's a difference, of course there is. This time, for example, I live only a few hundred meters away from you.)

To fill in the distance, Pongo initiated a broader conversation about trivial matters, but still called to talk about them until the earpiece was hot.  
Now that the source of the headache has been addressed, Pongo is supposedly free of that silly question, but he's just curious if one day Dedus suddenly gets bored with him and refuses to talk to him (like that inexplicable sunbathing maniac), or avoids his questions, or even lies to him and makes up stories just to give him a break?  
He really didn't know. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't sleep. It was hard to close his eyes as he watched the stars outside his window, or as a spaceship passed by like a meteor, but in his uncontrolled dreams, incomprehensible things like the pot of greenery he kept on the balcony of his apartment grew haphazardly and would grow into a disaster if not taken care of in time.

On the sunny morning a week after his move, Pongorma prunes the greenery on his apartment balcony and picks some vegetables to make burritos. Over the years, the vendor has continued to invent weird and wonderful snacks, but nothing has taken the place of the king, the burrito.  
No, he didn't really care what he ate for lunch, nor did he care about arguments between people who love different foods; he tended the plants on his balcony because he had to do something to relieve his worries, or his head would literally explode. This whole thing has completely messed up his life, and it's weird, and it definitely needs to be talked about with Dedus.  
At first glance, Pongo's apartment is a mess, but minus the various accompaniments he received from Dedus (which leaves nowhere to go!)and all that was left were a few plain furnishings. Pongo stepped over a small hill of obstacles in the floor and made his way from the balcony to the bedroom, where he dialed the phone in front of the nightstand.  
"When was the last time we saw each other? Six months ago?" Pongo stretched out and collapsed on his back on the bed. He'd taped pictures to the ceiling, all of them antiques that Dedus had sent him. His archaeologist friend thought it was some kind of strange flaky sponge, that there must be a way to call out to the souls inside, Pongo was convinced of that.  
"Exactly. Working together was five years ago. Oh, by the way, If my work goes well, I'll be back in two weeks."Dedus chuckled, "Are you getting used to moving to New Muldul?"  
"It's fine. I'm trying to make new friends, but he doesn't seem to like me much." Pongo tells the whole story of a week of weird sunbathing experiences. He heard the sound of Dedus' laughter coming from the receiver and felt a little dissatisfied , "I was going to write a song based on him, but I'm starting to dislike him now. I wrote one for you too, so I can play it to you now...just wrote it yesterday. Haven't finished it yet though."  
"Then I'd better wait until you finish it."  
"Uh, that's the thing. I've been thinking about you all over the place, Dedus, but the more I think about it the less I can write. I even dream about you, pretty weird dream, and you're even the main character in it."Pongo sighed.  
"Interesting. What am I doing in it?" Dedus became interested all at once, his tone all a bit higher.  
"In the dream we were lying side by side in the desert looking at the stars. You taught me, uh, a few hand gestures. Not the ones on TV, but gestures I've never seen before."

At first, Pongo had trouble sorting through the logical confusion of the dream, but gradually became proficient: "You said those gestures don't work just because they're posed, to be effective, your hands have to touch something, they have to touch up completely, not even a little distance apart. One of those gestures is to open five fingers, then press the middle and ring fingers together toward the palm of your hand."  
"Cool. Like horns."Dedus tried to gesture.  
"Yeah, yeah, like horns, but the kind with gloves on."Pongo rolled over and lay on his side, setting the receiver in front of himself as if he were talking face to face with Dedus, "And then what, you said you'd demonstrate it to me, and of course I said yes, so you started, uh... touching my clothing? I asked you to stop, but you were just minding your own business. "  
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, there was a sudden clanking sound from the phone receiver, followed by Dedus' feigned cough.  
"Dedus, what's that noise over there?"  
"It's okay, I got rid of the burrito. Please go ahead." Dedus's voice was shaking, and there seemed to be the clanking bell of a microwave heating food in the background, "Are you mad at me?"  
"No! No, it's just a dream. I don't hate it when you do that in a dream."Pongo whispered close to the earpiece, "I actually felt... happy. What's that word? It's like all the veins in your body are on fire, numb and kind of gross."  
"Excited?"  
"Maybe. Excited..." Pongo repeated mindlessly, hearing the sound of Dedus swallowing his saliva.  
"If I were you, I'd probably feel that way too." Dedus lowered his voice, unable to hide the heightened joy in his own words.

It wasn't hard to say that the words touched Pongo, propelling him into a wild fantasy dream. He couldn't restrain himself from recalling the dream and stroking his catsuit in the manner of Dedus. He imagined Dedus's smooth black gloves burying into those soft, delicate hairs, deeper, deeper, penetrating through the epidermis right down to the guts, moving along the veins in his body, feeling the slight heat where the gloves had passed. Excited, oddly excited. Why? He had often touched Dedus' armor before, and being impressed by the exquisite craftsmanship of the ancient artisans was not something to get excited about, something subtly different from what he was doing now.  
Confusion didn't interrupt his movements. He bit the fingers of one hand while the other still explored the body covered in blue fluff - this time he didn't want Dedus to stop, even though it was just a figment of his imagination. Under this constant stroking, electricity thrummed through his bones and flesh, reaching from his toes to his brain. Electricity raced up and down his body. He couldn't help but scream. Finding a way out, the current quickly dissipated into the air along the tip of his tongue. Pongorma scrambled to cover his mouth, but he knew it wouldn't cover up his rapid breathing. His mouth felt dry and he's frightened. It was like a fish in an ornamental pond, a stupid fish that could do nothing but breathe with its mouth open and closed.  
"Pon, you sound weird,"Dedus wondered, "Anyway...what happened then? What about the gesture?!"

(Gesture. Gee...Gesture.)  
(This guy is really all about archaeology. Too much, this is too much.)

"I don't remember, Dedus. I'm sorry."Pongo's excitement wore off most of the moment, buried his face between the pillows, and said sullenly, "I thought you'd have an answer."  
"Maybe I do."Dedus pondered, "I think I've seen that gesture before actually. It's older than the water cooler."  
"Another hand gesture buried by the sages?" Pongo tried to cheer up so he could keep up with the conversation. He didn't want to interrupt Dedus's fun, though he'd never done that before. He imagined that the neglected Dedus would be very sad, and if he stayed sad, he'd probably die in a slow self-melting meltdown. A sad little green snail...Alas...  
"I don't think it was for combat, but more of a spiritual symbol. It's somewhat associated with music, but I can't remember the details. I think I stored the information in New Muldul's stagecoach...oops." Dedus took a deep breath, "Listen, Pon, I have an ancient machine in my bedroom that stores all the gestures I've collected, can you operate it for me? I'd love to know the answer too."

(Anyway, this was a rare adventure for both of us, after all, so it was better not to disappoint him.)

Pongo did as Dedus said and went to the inn room he'd rented, knocked on the door, waited for a long time for no answer, and so pressed his head against the door and listened. Suddenly the lock turned, and he plunged headfirst into the huge ball of plush inside the door - Smuldunde, in his seasonal pink plush catsuit, looked at Pongo in his arms quizzically.

(He's so warm, he must have just had a sunbath. Phrase the sun.)

"It's been a long time, Smuldunde," Pongo extricated himself from the plush and looked up to see Smul's face, but his view was blocked by a pair of large, lopsided tentacles that wrapped horizontally around his skull, "Are you busy?"  
The two of them had met a few months ago. Smul was Dedus's archaeological mentor, three or four feet taller than Dedus and a giant in their clan; his white tentacles indicates he was very old, and it wasn't hard to guess that his torso underneath his thick clothing was lean and weakened, a completely empty frame for this intimidating form. Right now, he had the entire hallway blocked off, the plush stuffing every crevice so tightly that Pongo found it hard to breathe just looking at him.  
"Dedus sent me to pick up something, it won't take long."  
"Pick up what?" Smul completely ignored Pongo's greeting, towering over him. He took a bite of the resilient Hylethem fruit in his hand and chewed it slowly, a tooth-rotting squeak coming from his mouth.  
Pongo thinks Smul is purposefully blocking him, he manages to get under Smul's armpit and scans the entire living room, pointing to a door with a Dedus name tag, "Can I go into his bedroom? There's a machine with research data stored on it."  
"You're not allowed in."Smul said, making a zipper gesture, and a ring of foam puffed out of the air around Pongo in a circular path, working its way up and down to form a hard fence separating Pongorma from the door.

(Don't be nervous. What's there to be nervous about? It would be a real shame to stammer here.)

Pongo cleared his throat."I'll leave after I get what I need to get and I won't cause you any trouble."  
"No. If Dedus himself isn't here, no one can touch his instruments." Smul blew a bubble, for which he stretched the tentacles that covered his face, and Pongo saw that he had lost the upper half of his face, the part of his skull that had fused with the tentacles in a long evolution. That didn't stop him from "seeing", though: at this age, they could usually rely on the power of meditation to sense the outside world.  
"In case you didn't get it, Dedusmuln himself asked me to come.There's a phone in your living room, just call him to make sure." Pongo quietly pushed against the fence, the tough foam streaks not moving.  
"No, no, please go back and don't touch anything. This is serious. Dedus needs to learn the rules too, it's no good being smart all the time."Smul made a "please" like a waiter, determined to see his guest off.

The fruit crunches in his mouth.

(How noisy.)

Pongorma's palms are sweaty and the inside of his black gloves are wet and slippery. He licks his lips and puts his right hand behind his back, squeezing his middle finger and thumb - he knows he's come at a bad time, and he's not sure if he can make a nice snap to subdue Smul painlessly: the guy is old, but he must still retain the same warlike nature as Dedus. Pongo's agitated will shows as a cold arc of electricity across his body surface caused the hairs on his catsuit to root up: on the one hand he tried to adjust to a normal life, on the other hand he would still bask in the glory of his past status. He was a knight of Viithorn, a noble relic of an ancient empire, and he could do whatever he wanted. With a fall of lightning, or a soul-penetrating ring of fire, he could make Smul's flesh flay from his bones with the stench of charred flesh, and then break in with aplomb, how easy would that be?Rebirth would take some time for a creature of Smul's age. But he was, after all, a knight. If he didn't initiate a duel in a dignified manner, his reputation is at stake.....  
As he thought this, he was already being carried out of the door by Smul, who was grabbing him by the back of the neck like a puppy. Smul patted Pongo's fish-shaped helmet, backed away, and was about to close the door on his way, when Pongo called out to him:  
"Hey!"  
Smul stared at him from under the door, his mouth gurgling like he was eating a boot (Hylethem was indeed one of the ingredients used to make boots and gloves).  
"Duel with me." Pongo removed one glove, the veins rippling on the back of his crimson hand.  
"Uh-" Smul pondered, "No."  
He said and slammed the door hard.

(Damn it!!!)

"Ah, Pon...you move so fast. Have you turned the machine on already?" Dedus answered the phone with gusto, "I just set up the receiver so that should be ok."  
Pongo borrowed the wireless phone in the inn lobby to contact Dedus, drew a lot of surprised looks. As he makes the call, he rides a swivel chair around the lobby, as if he's a rabid Bicorn with hooves everywhere, and the guests in the lobby scrambled to avoid him. In the midst of this whirlwind, he tells Dedus all about what he thinks of Smul, how he wants to treat Smul and how he was thrown out of the guest room, but Dedus almost completely misses the part about finally being thrown out, because Pongo rides his chair into the fish pond in the lobby in the middle of his story, and the rest of the call is full of arguments as well as the sound of dripping clothes clattering.  
"...Anyway, I don't understand why he hates me so much at all." Ashore Pongo removed his helmet and spat out a mouthful of fish soup with watercress. He slapped the sediment out of his helmet and continued the conversation with the water-faulted phone between his chin, his voice sounding intermittent to Dedus, "What's next?"  
"Go ahead and theorize of course, I'll help you." Dedus cut him off, "That owner is simply blackmailing you, eh? I've seen the vendor who raises that kind of ornamental fish during my visits, and the price isn't as high as what you're paying him."  
"Dedus, as much as I appreciate your concern, you should at least focus on the business at hand."Pongo rolled his eyes and put his helmet back on, wringing his catsuit in frustration. Dedus had misunderstood him greatly, the bone thing could have been put aside, and with a few gestures he could have turned everyone in this hall into unmoving currency on the spot if he wanted to. In fact, he hadn't even thought of paying for it on his way out, and the jeers in the hall gave him ample reason to duel while he was drenched in anguish. The guys were very mean, but...their bones were very noble to use to pay his bills.  
"Ouch, I'm so sorry. I didn't expect it to turn out like this, but you don't have to do the killing!" Dedus was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe, and Pongo could almost picture him rolling around on the couch (this idiot!), "Why don't you try destroying the locks and sneaking into my room later in the evening? Smul will be asleep after watching the nightly forensics show, he sleeps so hard he snores like a ship's whistle, you can hear it on the street, and by then that's your chance to sneak in. I'll be here to cheer you on."

Dedusmuln described people as accurately as ever; Smuldunde's snoring was inflective, rich in tone like the intermittent whistle of a titan singer.  
Pongorma pressed his fingertips against the keyhole of the guestroom' s door: just a tiny spark, the lock wasn't deep... There was a soft click, the door opened, and he dived in noiselessly, barefoot. One more time, this time opening the bedroom.

(How is this possible?)

Pongo stood in the doorway examining Dedus's room, not daring to step inside.  
The entire room had been made into a quiet, forested fishpond.The walls were covered in moss, some antiques embedded in the walls, a few synapses of trees protruded sporadically from the ceiling, they intersected and splintered, dangling like nets; water continued to rise from under the floorboards, quickly flooding the entire dwelling and not passing his feet; fish stretched and spun silently on the floating water. The fish he had killed on his swivel chair, fish that couldn't breathe, fish that had been cruising the Viithorn forest since he was a child. The machine he seeks sits in front of the window facing the door, both a bright red brain in the moonlight and a bed, floating up and down in the pond. Soft slender cilia surround the brain, breathing, writhing, inviting him wordlessly.  
Pongo wasn't surprised at the sight, because Dedus had already spelled out the details over the phone - it was all an illusion, from his fuzzy memories. He knew how to operate the machine, but he still felt strange, perhaps alerted by a sudden confidence that he knew the room as well as he did his own apartment. Pongo pulled up his trousers and stepped into the bedroom, the more he walked towards the machine, the colder and deeper the water became. He turned on a few buttons on the machine in the waist-deep water and tried to climb onto the brain bed, but slipped. The fall quickly engulfed him in the sticky water.

(Damn, this bath was all for nothing again.)

Pongorma snapped awake, tilting his head back and trying to breathe. The breeze blew sand grains clinging to his wet face. He chokes and spits out the sand from his mouth, touches his face, and realizes his helmet is missing.  
"Is this Afterlife?"He looked up at the stars and said to himself, "Am I dead?"  
"No, you're stargazing, that's all."  
Pongo turned to look at the speaking man lying beside him: Dedus was leisurely counting the stars in the white desert, and invited him to join him. Seeing this, Pongo sighed, "Looks like this is just a continuation of that dream from last night."  
"Or so to speak. Only you're dreaming in a machine, and it's all a projection of a dream." Dedus explained, "Well done, Pon. Honestly, I didn't think you'd stay here, but since you're here, why don't you stay and join me in finding the answers? I've got what I need, now it's your turn."  
Dedus lifted the cup filled with black liquid and handed it to Pongo, who was seated next to him. Pongo noticed that they had somehow managed to sit at the table of a music bar. He looked around, it was a two-story bar, and the details of the concert were in full view from the table on the upper floor. Everyone's a stranger. Pongo recognizes the ethnicity of the people, the regulars in the photos, "antiques" that are older than the water cooler. Many of the people in the "horn" gesture jumped up and down on the dance floor, and he understood the meaning of the gesture as soon as he saw the passion in their eyes.  
"Why doesn't anyone use the 'horn' anymore?How cool." Pongo took a sip of the cold, bubbling liquid in his cup, sweet and tongue-tied.  
"There's been a bit of a change, and most of this race's culture is not left behind." Dedusmuln played with his glass, listening to the ice clatter inside, "When they left from Afterlife to return to their homeland, everything was decayed, including of course the antiques that recorded the gestures. Now, I'm afraid they've evolved into very different races, scattered all over the world, busy rebuilding the city that was theirs."  
"That's stupid, who cares about their cities? Enjoy the moment, man. Music is the moment," Pongo said, draining his glass of sweet water in one gulp and waving the "horn" gesture along with the restless crowd.  
"You're a proud drinker." Dedus laughed in surprise, "Do you remember the first time we went to a music bar? You kept chugging wine and you got pretty drunk."  
"What?!"With his eyes all on the band, Pongo replied carelessly, "You have to talk louder, the music is too loud!"  
Dedus leaned in close and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  
"What was that?"Pongo stared at his neighboring friend, a pair of aqua eyes filled with confusion.  
"You're too drunk." Dedus said. He poured ice into his mouth, along with the rest of his drink, and gurgled and chewed.  
"I don't remember,"Pongo said quietly, "Do it again, I want to make sure."

(His tongue can be so cold.)

They kissed again. Dedus flicked the loose red hair behind Pongo's head for him and kissed him on the lips, sucking and licking the sugar on the surface. Dedus kissed deep, his tentacles clamping down on Pongo's horns so that he had nowhere to go. Pongorma struggled to get out of the restraints, but the friction of the tentacles backfired, turning Dedus on even more. Whenever Pongo was close to suffocating, Dedus was just the right amount of time to send some air into him with a series of light kisses to keep their warmth going. The band was still playing, but to their ears, the only sound in the world was the sound of blood rushing.  
It wasn't until the band ended, the audience dispersed, and everything fell silent that Dedus would release the tentacles wrapped around Pongo. They were back in the desert under the stars, embracing and sitting on their knees as the bar withered into sand. Dedus looked at the man gasping for breath in his arms and reminded him in surprise: "You're bleeding."  
He saw the crimson hands holding him tightly in panic, bruised and pierced by the spikes in his armor.  
"I did it on purpose." Pongo replied in the interval between calming breaths. He flipped his hands to show Dedus this masterpiece of passion.  
Dedus laughed and leaned in close to kiss the bloodied hands, licking the fresh wounds, leaning down to press Pongo down into the sand, stroking his plush body. Pongo felt himself burning, the out-of-control electricity passing through Dedus's long fingers, burning his skin through his clothing.  
He thought of water, of death. His flesh and blood, along with his body clothes, began to melt, and so did Dedus - they no longer needed the shell, returning to their primal forms. Freed from his armor, the archaeologist kissed his handsome knight, whose face had dripped from the gray-white bones, and opened his mouth to receive it, the sticky gravy curdling back up in his mouth, shaken only by a cloud of fleshy filaments clinging to the original bones.  
Dedus lifted Pongo's thighs to straddle him between his legs, kissing his skull as he rubbed his own pink-fleshed pubic bone against Pongo's wet crotch. Pongo tried to scream, but his throat had long since melted away somewhere, and he figured the flowing mass of organ might be venting its delight in Dedus's stomach. Perhaps it was too much movement, but both of Dedus's arms came off his shoulders and he nearly lost his support without arms, but Pongo kept a tight hold on him. The fingers he fastened to Dedus's back sank deep into the warm flesh, scratching and stirring the pink gravy so freely he could almost touch the pounding heart in his chest.

(Think of me as mud, knead me, crush me, hollow me out and drain me, and don't stop.)

With each thrust they deviated more and more from their original form, and eventually not a single bone could continue to support the deviated flesh, they collapsed, and everything after that was no longer under their control, just the flesh that craved fusion acting on instinct. Soon there was no more Dedusmuln or Pongorma, and all that remained of the vast desert was a muddled mass of different colored flesh, writhing purposelessly in the sand. Lacking moisture, the mass of flesh quickly shriveled and flaked, died, leaving only a twisted pile of intersecting bones that no one could see the original shape of.  
Then the wind picked up and blew the bones apart like foam.The desert erased the trace forever, as if they had never existed.

Pongorma woke to the sound of birdsong. It was dawn, and he looked around in a daze and found himself leaning against Smuldunde's shoulder, the two of them sitting side by side on a wet couch - it was the living room, but there were signs of flooding everywhere, and the furniture below his waist was either sparking or swollen and deformed; the floor was all wet and sandy and a few fish were twitching in the mud puddle. Pongo covered his head and feels a splitting headache, knowing that he's in big trouble: what is a dream and what is real? From the moment he was drawn to that machine, all hell broke loose.  
"I told you, operating a machine is serious," Smul said matter-of-factly, "You flooded the whole building."  
"I'll take responsibility."Pongo slapped himself in the face, trying to keep himself awake. He noticed that Dedusmuln's room had been sealed with shame.  
"I'm glad you have the heart for it. But I've already sent the troublemakers away. It's a common occurrence for us, please don't take it personally."Smul was about to hand back the drained helmet when he suddenly remembered something and paused in his hands, "You'll have to promise me first that you won't trespass on private property again."  
"I swear it in the name of a knight."Pongo humbly took the helmet as if participating in a beatification ceremony.  
"Will you help me move the furniture to the balcony? The sun will be out soon, and these will need to be well tanned."Smul said, expertly patting Pongo's helmet.

Lifting heavy objects should have been a dull chore, but Smuldunde's insatiable appetite for knowledge led to question after question: How on earth did you unlock the door? How did the interest in ancient machines come about? And what exactly did you dream about?........  
"I recognize the illusion you created. As a relic of an ancient empire, you must have many stories to tell." Smul was confident in his judgment.  
Pongo answered without a hint of disguise, giving a full account of the door-breaking techniques and the entire infiltration plan that Dedus had imparted over the phone, even confessing the alternate plan for silencing him in the event of failure. Smul shook his head as he listened, marveling at how unpredictable the two troublemakers were.  
They carried the last of the soaking furniture out to the balcony, where the fully awakened sun dried the surface, and Smul took two boxes of juice from the freezer to share with Pongo, the two of them sunbathing on the edge of the balcony, overlooking the pedestrians coming and going on the street, or looking out over the green mountains, at their leisure.  
"Let's just say, dreaming in a machine is a strange experience. It's like I'm dreaming of death, but I'm not dead. The bones have turned to sand in the passage of thousands of years, but I can still see the desert and the stars, but I can't touch anything, I can't hear anything, I can't smell or even feel anything, it's like I'm stuck at a time point forever. It was really awful."Pongo mused, "I still wonder what would have happened if death had been much longer than what we're experiencing now. Killing a random person backfired as a very vicious thing to do. I'm sorry I thought about killing you."  
"No need to be sorry. Actually it sounds pretty good. If this does happen, then at least I can finally get away from all this material and experience pure thought." Smul drinked in a mouthful of juice, "I've been through the cycle of life many times, growing up young, growing old, returning to a new birth and entering a new life - life is always very busy. This brain (he whacks himself on the head)...is just a crude primitive machine that doesn't distinguish between what's important and what's not, it just keeps on remembering all the substances that come into my life, new ones replacing old ones, and so on and so forth. I've done a lot of work and ended up choosing to fight my brain by digging up old stuff, but I often can't help but wonder what the point of that action is."  
"It's the same, man. Same for all of us." Pongo tried to pat Smul on the head, but couldn't really reach that height, so he patted him on the back instead, "But don't you ever remember a thing in a lasting way? Even at the end of your life you'll still remember, won't you?"  
"I'll have to think about that carefully. Do you?"  
"Viithorn. I want to dig up the knight's homeland while I still have the ability to remember it."  
"Didn't it sink to the bottom of the ocean? It's going to take you many years just by yourself."  
"Dedus will help me. But before we talk about that, I want him to move in with me first." Pongo pointed out to Smul a conch-shell apartment in the high mountains, its painted shell facade glowing a striking blue in the sun.  
"Yeah?"  
"He'll be packing his bags as soon as he gets back, so I thought it would be better to tell you ahead of time."  
"No way." Smul laughed, "How are you going to convince him?"  
"I'll put it this way: I've had this idea for decades, and it's the result of a lot of thought. I have had many hands-on experiences with archaeology, am good at fighting, and know how to face danger and deal with mistakes. I'm just getting started in my personal business and can guarantee a steady income and a place to live, and things are only going to get better. Plus, I'll be making burritos. No one dislikes burritos."  
"You're so articulate." Seeing how serious he was, Smul couldn't resist going to pat Pongo on the head again, "Do you still have the burritos you made yourself?"  
"Actually, I just made a plate yesterday and put it in the fridge overnight."  
"I like it, overnight burrito taste softer." Smul leaned affectionately on Pongo's shoulder and gestured to Pongo's apartment, "Here's the deal: you go back and get the ink rolls and I'll get the deck chairs and parasol. We'll have lunch in the sun and keep talking and I can tell you about Dedus when he was a kid. What do you think?"  
Needless to say, that was the most joyous "yes" Pongorma has ever said in his life. The sun is shining on every inch of New Muldul, as it has for centuries. He ran happily down the stairs. The streets were crowded, the traffic was heavy, and the return airship would be on its way in two weeks. He wouldn't bet on being more dedicated than the sun over New Muldul, but until he and Dedusmuln dug out the empire at the bottom of the sea together, he'd never worry about anything again. Heat me, O'sun.


	2. Chapter 2

毫无征兆地，Pongorma解雇了最后几名骑士学徒，宣布他的黑暗骑士团正式解散。

“Gibby又被打败了，可是在他复活的那段时间里你们一点用场也派不上，还不如早点散伙，免得继续挂着骑士团的名号混日子。各自保重吧。”

他做出这个决定的当天就从地堡里搬了出去。他在那里住了几百年，带走的行李却不多。盔甲全都丢了，剑也是，只保留了一堆奇形怪状的头盔；旅行箱里有一半都塞满时尚杂志。Pongo身着一件天蓝色的毛绒连身衣，巧妙地赶上了潮流。

他还没想好自己要做什么工作（也许做个自由职业者，主要还是写歌，偶尔晒晒太阳），不过倒是很早就有了在New Muldul租一间房子的念头：那是个建造在高山上的新生城市，一天之中太阳最先照射到的温暖地方。环境漂亮，人潮涌动，交通也方便，能随时联系到他的几个朋友，不过最终说服他定居在此的是城市广场上一个雷打不动的日光浴狂，每天早晨准点躺在矿井的穹顶上，像个肿胀的“大”字，搅动着脸上的触手念叨：“加热我吧，日光！”一晒就是一天，太阳落山就回家，第二天照常。

“每天上工都是你在挡路！”Pongo听到在矿井里工作的人这么数落他。

（这不是更有意思了吗？）

Pongo搬来New Muldul的第一天，学着那日光浴狂的样子在他身边躺下，闻着他身上盐粒的香味打盹。Pongo的皮肤、头发和头上的三对尖角全部是深红色的，非常容易晒伤起泡，只坚持了一会儿就败下阵来。即便如此，他也每天定点来晒几个小时，不讲话，只是享受阳光。就这么晒了一个星期，对方先开口了：

“嘿，我看你很懂嘛。”

“其实不太懂，不过每天都来晒一下也挺有趣的。”Pongo说。

“有趣？只是有趣而已？！”这个晒日光浴的家伙猛地坐了起来，身体上的触须剧烈颤抖，皮肤褶皱里的盐粒咯嘣咯嘣地弹动。他瞪了Pongo一眼，继而躺回原处，再也没有搭理过他。

（……）

Pongorma喜欢高山之城New Muldul，这里环境漂亮，人潮涌动，交通方便，而且阳光明媚，晒日光浴很舒服；不过最终说服他定居在此的是长期租住在客栈里的一个考古学家Dedusmuln，那是他为数不多的朋友之一，有点笨，但是性格很好（才不会平白无故凶他），而且长得很俊俏：粉红色皮肤，金头发，还有华丽的绿色触角，体型修长像个模特儿。Pongo还没有想好自己要做什么工作，也许玩音乐的同时兼职做个考古学家，和Dedus一起挖掘有趣的东西。

Pongo最初是在乐队里了解到考古的。音乐酒吧是Wayne提议要去的，在那之前，他根本不敢想象自己有这方面的天赋。Dedus弹琴，Wayne弹吉他，Soms主唱，Pongo混音，从最终结果来看，这个崭新的四人乐队演出很成功。中场休息时有粉丝请了他们一轮饮料，大家边喝边聊。Pongo平时戴着威严的头盔遮掩自己的脸，只在放松时摘下来，他自己也明白，一张绯红色的娃娃脸看起来过于人畜无害。他长着一对清透的蓝眼睛，Dedus说那是水色，来自真正的水，在许多个世代之前是要被人用饮水机保护起来的，很珍贵。

“水承载了很多历史哦。水开始记事的时候，我们甚至还不是一颗种子、一只幼虫、一枚卵……”Dedus盯着Pongo的眼睛，和他碰杯，“每次看到这么漂亮的蓝色，我就会觉得非常开心，同时也非常可惜，我没有办法用纸杯把它们全部盛起来。”

（嗬，他可真是能说会道。）

那时他们刚认识不久，月球的危机还未解除，但Dedus心里却只有他的纸杯子。Pongorma其实对考古学一无所知，但他听了这番话很受触动（当然，也有点可怜Dedus的意思，谁让他偏偏喜欢钻研这些晦涩的东西呢），对Dedus起了十二分的尊敬，问道：

“你们考古学家都做些什么呢？”

“主要是挖掘地下的东西。机器，雕塑，画作，生活用品……我们就靠那些东西了解以前的人怎么生活。”Dedus掰着手指，细数自己的发现。都是些没人听说过的物件。

“这样啊。”Pongo想，原来他和他地堡里的骑士团、沉没的Viithorn帝国甚至隐居的圣人们也属于“古董”，人们在季节流转和月相变化里把他们遗忘了。他见过Dedus在一片白沙荒漠中挖纸杯的样子，惨白的月光洒下来，他一个人孤零零的，很是寂寞。唯一陪伴他工作的铲子小得可怜。Pongo觉得以那样的效率，就算不眠不休地挖下去，要挖出Viithorn这样宏伟的古董大概也是数千年以后的事情了。

Pongo回想着和Dedus一起经历的种种，突然意识到，原来自己当初就是凭着这个念头解散骑士团的。他不在乎再过几个世代是否还有人记得他和他消亡的故国，不过有一件事他很确定，如果到那时举办记忆大赛的话，满怀梦想又干劲十足的Dedus一定是最后的赢家。

另一件确定的事就是，假如他告诉Dedus有一个叫做Viithorn的地方，那么不管要花多长时间，Dedus一定会去挖挖看的。

“你觉得……如果我遇到考古方面的问题，我可以随时请教你吗？”Pongo小心翼翼地问。

他不记得Dedus当初是怎样回答他的了，不过答案一定挺让人开心的，谁让他最后喝得太多、把所有细节都忘了个干净呢？

自那之后，Dedus常常来拜访Pongo，唯一可惜的是两个人的日程总会错开，很少能一起行动。Pongo和Wayne们住得很近，散步时经常能见到，所以不会为他们发愁；他又和Soms住得太远，很少有机会联系，所以忘了为她发愁；而Dedus就是一个让人头痛的典型，他的工作是往世界各地去探险，总是和Pongo保持着随机的距离，这种远远近近的拉扯快把人给逼疯了——Pongo真的很想和Dedus一起去考古，有时Dedus的目的地就在临近的海岛，可是当他好不容易能抽出时间的时候，他活力四射的友人又乘飞船去了天南海北，吊足了人的胃口。

“咱们上次见面是什么时候？”Dedusmuln问。

“三个月前吧。”Pongorma答道。

“一起旅行呢？”

“三年前吧。”

“你不应该比我还忙呀！”又一次，Dedus把冒险得来的纪念品塞进Pongo手里，脸上满是不可置信。他换了一身盔甲，角变形了，金色头发长了不少——他解释说那只是季节性生长的层状结构，Pongo用手指拨过，能听见拨拉梳齿一样清脆的声响。

“我得训练那些菜鸟，为将来的危险做准备。”Pongo瞟了一眼自己背后那些列队练习的骑士学徒，他们的手势还是一样笨拙。

（回头想想，这好像也是一个解散的理由。）

“哎呀，怪我糊涂。我应该打电话和你联系的。”Dedus突然很高兴。“要是地堡里有电话就热闹多了。我帮你装一台在这里吧。”

“什么是‘垫画’？”

几十年过去，Pongo一直想不起自己当初究竟有没有问出那个傻问题。如今，人人家里都有一台电话，从人们在一种怪物Tyro身上发现这种远古机器开始，交流越发快捷了。Pongo几乎天天和Dedus煲电话粥，许多事物Pongo不能亲自见到，Dedus就会不厌其烦地讲给他听。有些时候Dedus主动打电话多些，有些时候Pongo更主动。

长途电话费是一笔很大的开支，Pongo有着照顾一群学徒小孩的经验，算账很仔细，这笔账他记得最清楚。可是自从他搬来New Muldul，这笔花销不降反增：Dedus已经是小有名气的考古新星了，古迹的规模越挖越大，他的工作日程无限期地拉长，到现在，出远门的时间竟比住在客栈里的时间长几倍了。

“你可太糊涂了，这样租房一点也不划算。”Pongo总在不经意间给出许多理财建议。“还不如来和我合租呢，便宜一点，算你三分之一好了。”

“原来你这么在意数字啊。”电话那头的Dedus思索了一会儿，“多一点少一点，有什么区别呢？”

（有区别，当然有区别。这回我住的地方离你可只有几百米远啊。）

为了填补这份疏远，Pongo发起的话题更加宽泛了，尽是鸡毛蒜皮的小事，可还是要打电话说，不煲到听筒发烫不罢休。

既然头痛的根源已经解决，照理说Pongo已经可以不用再去想那个傻问题了，但他就是很好奇，如果有一天Dedus突然厌烦他了，会不会拒绝和他讲话（像那个莫名其妙的日光浴狂一样），或者回避他的问题，甚至对他撒谎编造一些故事，只为了让他歇歇嘴？

他真的不知道。越是胡思乱想，越是睡不着。他看着窗外漫天繁星，间接有飞船流星似的划过，好不容易合上眼，可是在他不受控制的梦里，一些不可理喻的东西胡乱生长出来，像他养在公寓阳台上那盆绿植，若不及时照顾就会长成灾难。

搬家满一周的早晨，天气格外晴朗。Pongorma在公寓阳台上修剪绿植，并摘了些蔬菜打算做墨卷。这些年，摊贩持续不断地发明稀奇古怪的小吃，但没有东西能取代墨卷的王者地位。

不，他其实不在乎中午吃什么，也不在乎食物的党派斗争，他照料阳台上的植物只是因为他必须做些事情排忧，不然脑袋真的会炸掉。这件事把他的生活完全搅乱了，很古怪，绝对要和Dedus好好地讲一讲。

初看上去，Pongo的公寓很乱，但撇去Dedus送给他的的各种伴手礼（让人无处安放！），就只剩下一些朴素的摆设而已。Pongo跨过地板上的一座座障碍小山，从阳台来到卧室，在床头柜前拨通了电话。

“我们上次见面是什么时候了，半年前？”Pongo伸了个懒腰，仰躺着瘫在床上。他在天花板上贴了许多照片，全是Dedus寄给他的古董。他这位考古学家朋友认为那是种奇怪的片状海绵，一定有种方法可以呼唤里面的灵魂，Pongo对此深信不疑。

“没错。一起工作是五年前了。如果进展顺利，再过两周我就能回去了。”Dedus笑着说，“你搬来New Muldul还习惯吗？”

“挺好的。我试着交新朋友，但是他好像不怎么喜欢我。”Pongo把一星期来晒太阳浴的古怪经历全盘托出，引发一阵笑声，他听着很是不满，“我本来是打算以他为蓝本写首歌的，不过我现在开始讨厌他了。我也给你写了一首，现在就可以弹给你听……昨天刚写的。虽然还没写完。”

“那就等到你写完再弹吧。”

“呃，这就是问题了。我满脑子都想着你，Dedus，但是越想反而越写不出来。我甚至梦到你，挺怪的梦，你在里面还是主角呢。”Pongo叹了口气。

“有意思。我在梦里做什么呢？”Dedus一下子来了兴趣，语调都高了几分。

“梦里咱们俩并排躺在沙地上看星星。你教了我，呃，几个手势。不是电视里的那些，是我从没见过的手势。”

一开始，Pongo很难把逻辑混乱的梦境梳理清楚，但渐渐也就熟练了：“你说那些手势不是摆出来就能用的，要发挥效果，你的手要接触到什么人才行，必须完全接触上去，隔着一点距离都不行。其中有一个手势是，先张开五根指头，然后把中指和无名指并拢向手心压下去。”

“酷。像角一样。”Dedus试着比划了一下。

“对对，像角，但是是戴手套的那种。”Pongo翻了个身，侧躺着，把听筒摆在自己面前，好像正在和Dedus面对面讲话一样，“后来呢，你说要演示给我看，我当然说好，于是你就开始，呃……摸我的衣服？我拜托你停下，但你只是自顾自地摸来摸去。”

这话刚出口，电话听筒里突然传来一阵叮铃桄榔声，接着是Dedus佯装无事的咳嗽。

“Dedus，那边是什么声音？”

“没事，我把墨卷弄掉了。你继续吧。”Dedus的声音直打颤，背景音里似乎有微波炉热食物的叮咚铃声，“你在生我的气吗？”

“没有！没有的事，这只是梦嘛。我并不讨厌你在梦里那样做。”Pongo贴近听筒轻声说道，“我其实感觉……很激动。那个词怎么说？就好像全身的血管都烧起来一样，麻麻的，有点恶心。”

“兴奋吗？”

“也许吧。兴奋……”Pongo听见Dedus吞口水的声音，木木地重复道。

“如果我是你，我大概也会那样想的。”Dedus压低声音，难掩自己话里高涨的喜悦之情。

不难说这番话触动了Pongo，把他推进了一个狂野的幻梦里。他无法克制自己回想梦里的情景，学着Dedus的样子抚摸自己天蓝色的连身毛衣。他想象Dedus光滑的黑色手套埋进那些柔软细腻的毛发，深些，更深些，穿过表皮直钻到内脏深处，沿着血管在他的身体里游走，感到有手套经过的地方都微微发烫。兴奋，古怪的兴奋。为什么？他以前常常去摸Dedus的盔甲，被古代工匠精湛的手艺折服，那可不是什么叫人兴奋的事情，和现在的情况有些微妙的不同。

困惑并没能打断他的动作。他咬住一只手的手指，另一只手却仍在探索被蓝色绒毛覆盖的身体——这一次他并不希望Dedus停下，尽管那只是他的幻想。在这种持续不断的抚摸之下，他的骨头和血肉里有电流激荡，从脚趾直达大脑。电流在他的身体里上窜下跳。他忍不住发出惊叫。找到了出路，那道电流很快顺着他的舌尖消散在空气里。Pongorma连忙捂住嘴，却克制不住急促的呼吸。他感到口干舌燥，惶恐不安。简直像是观赏池里的鱼，除了开合着嘴呼吸什么也不会的蠢鱼。

“Pon，你的声音怪怪的。”Dedus疑惑道，“总而言之……后来呢？手势怎么样了？！”

（手势。哎……手势。）

（这家伙真的满脑子只有考古。过分，太过分了。）

“我不记得了，Dedus。对不起。”Pongo的兴奋感瞬间消了大半，把脸埋在枕头中间，闷闷地说，“我以为你会有答案。”

“也许真的有。”Dedus思索道，“实际上我好像见过那个手势。它比饮水机的历史还要久。”

“又一个被圣人埋藏的手势？”Pongo努力打起精神，好跟上话题。他不想打断Dedus的兴致，虽然他从没这么干过。在他的想象中，被人忽视的Dedus一定会非常伤心，要是一直伤心下去，没准会在缓慢的自我融化中死掉的。一只伤心的绿色小蜗牛，哎……

“我觉得那不是战斗用的，更像是个精神象征。它和音乐有点关联，但是我记不得细节了。我好像把资料存在New Muldul的驿站里了……哎呀。”Dedus做了个深呼吸，“听着，Pon，我的卧室里有一台古代机器，里面储存了我收集来的所有手势，你可以代我操作一下吗？我也很想知道答案。”

（不管怎么说，这毕竟是我们两个难得的冒险，还是别让他失望比较好。）

Pongo照Dedus说的来到他租住的驿站客房，敲了门，等了很久也不见有回音，于是将脑袋贴在门上倾听。门锁转动，他一头栽进门里那团巨大的毛绒中间——Smuldunde穿着当季流行款的粉色长绒连身毛衣，疑惑地看着怀里的Pongo。

（他身上很暖和，一定是刚刚晒过太阳。赞美太阳。）

“好久不见，Smuldunde。”Pongo从毛绒中挣脱出来，抬起头想看Smul的脸，却被他那一对硕壮的、横向环绕头骨一周的片状触角给挡住了视线，“你在忙吗？”

他们两个在数月前有过一面之缘。Smul是Dedus的考古导师，比Dedus高上三四尺，在他们一族中属于巨人；他的触角发白，看起来年纪很大了，不难猜他厚实连身衣下的躯干瘦削又衰弱，这副吓人的体型完全是一个空架子。此时此刻，他把整个走廊都给堵住了，毛绒把每一丝缝隙都塞得严严实实，Pongo只是看着就觉得难以呼吸。

“Dedus叫我来取点东西，不会耽误你很久的。”

“取什么？”Smul完全不理会Pongo的问候，巍然不动。他咬了一口手里富有弹性的Hylethem果实，慢慢咀嚼，嘴里传出令人牙酸的吱吱声。

Pongo觉得Smul是有意挡着自己，他从Smul的腋下艰难钻过，扫视了整个客厅，指向一扇挂有Dedus名牌的门，“在他卧室里有个机器，上面存着科研数据。”

“你不准进。”Smul说着捏出一个“拉链”的手势，一圈泡沫从Pongo周身的空气里以环形路径膨发出来，向天上与地下努力地延伸，形成一圈硬质的栅栏，将Pongorma和那扇门隔绝开来。

（不要紧张。有什么好紧张？如果在这里结巴，那真是丢死人了。）

“我拿完该拿的东西就走，不会给你添麻烦的。”Pongo清了清嗓子。

“不。Dedus本人不在，谁也不能动他的仪器。”Smul吹出一个泡泡，为此他舒展开了遮掩面部的触角，Pongo看到他已经失去了上半张脸，那部分的头骨在漫长的演化中和触角融为了一体。不过，这并不妨碍他“看”东西：活到这把年纪，他们通常可以依靠冥想的力量感知外界的一切。

“你可能没搞懂，是Dedusmuln亲口叫我来的。你客厅里有电话，打给他确认一下就是了。”Pongo悄悄推了推栅栏，坚韧的泡沫纹丝不动。

“不不，你请回吧，什么都别碰。这是很严肃的。Dedus也该学规矩点了，总是耍小聪明可不行。”Smul像服务生一样做出“请”的样子，他打定决心要送客了。

嘴里的果实嘎吱嘎吱响。

（真吵人。）

Pongorma的手心冒出一层薄汗，黑色手套内侧变得湿润打滑。他舔舔嘴唇，将右手背在身后，捏紧中指与拇指——他深知自己来的不是时候，也不确定自己能否打出一个漂亮的响指将Smul无痛苦地制服：这家伙虽然老，但一定还保留着和Dedus一样好战的本性。

Pongo焦躁的意志显示为划过体表的一阵冷色电弧，令他连身毛衣上的毛发根根炸起：一方面他努力适应平凡的生活，一方面他仍会沉浸在过去荣耀的身份中。他可是Viithorn的骑士，古老帝国高贵的遗民，他想做什么就做什么。只要一道落雷，或者一枚洞穿灵魂的火环，他可以让Smul的肉散发着焦糊臭味从骨骼上剥落，然后堂而皇之闯进屋去，那多轻松？对Smul这个年纪的生物来说，重生会很花些时间。但他毕竟是名骑士。倘若他不堂堂正正发起决斗，他的名誉……

他想这些的时候，已经被Smul像拎小狗一样揪着后脖子拎出门外。Smul拍了拍Pongo的鱼形头盔，退回去，顺手就要关门，Pongo连忙叫住他：

“喂！”

Smul从门缝里盯着他，嘴里咯吱咯吱响，像在吃一只靴子（Hylethem的确是做靴子和手套的原料之一）。

“跟我决斗。“Pongo摘下一只手套，深红色的手背上筋脉暴起。

“呃——”Smul思索了一番，“不要。”

说罢使劲把门关上。

（可恶！！！）

“啊，Pongo……你动作好快。你已经打开机器了吗？”Dedus接电话时兴致勃勃，“我刚刚设置好接收装置，这样应该就OK了。”

Pongo借用驿站大厅里的无线电话联系了Dedus，引来侧目。他一边打电话，一边倒骑着转椅在大厅里乱转，仿佛一匹发狂的双角兽四处扬蹄，客人们避之不及。他在这天旋地转中和Dedus大倒苦水，把他对Smul怎么想、想怎么对待Smul以及如何被赶出客房的经历都对Dedus说了一遍，不过关于最后被扫地出门的那段，Dedus几乎完全没有听到，因为Pongo讲到一半时骑着椅子冲进大厅的鱼池里了，接下来通话里就全是争执声以及衣服滴水的哒哒声。

“……总之呢，我完全不懂他为什么那么讨厌我。”上岸的Pongo摘下头盔，吐出一口带水草的鱼汤。他拍打出头盔里的泥沙，用下巴夹着进水故障的电话继续话题，声音在Dedus听来时断时续，“接下来怎么办？”

“去理论啊，我帮你。”Dedus斩钉截铁道，“那老板根本就是在敲诈你诶。我在考察的时候见过养那种观赏鱼的摊贩，价格可没有你赔给他的那么贵。”

“Dedus，虽然很感谢你的关心，但你至少也该把注意力放在正事上。”Pongo翻了个白眼，将头盔戴好，无奈地把连身毛衣拧干。

Dedus对他误会大了，骨头的事情完全可以放在一边，只要他愿意，他可以用几个手势当场把这大厅里所有人变成不会动弹的货币。实际上，他出门时根本没有想到要付账，在他浑身湿透苦恼不堪的时候，大厅里的嘲笑声给他制造了充裕的决斗理由。那群家伙的嘴脸十分刻薄，不过……他们的骨头用来付账可非常高尚。

“哎哟，真对不起。我没想到会变成这样，不过你也不至于动手杀人啊！”Dedus笑得喘不上气，Pongo几乎能想象他在沙发上打滚的画面（这个缺根筋的蠢货！），“晚些时候你毁掉门锁，偷偷进我的屋子不就是了？Smul看完夜间的鉴宝节目就会睡的，他睡得很死，鼾声像船笛一样响，你在街上都能听到，到那时候就是你潜入的机会了。我会给你加油的。”

Dedusmuln形容人的准确程度一如既往，Smuldunde的鼾声是会拐弯的，像巨人歌唱家断断续续的口哨，富有音律。

Pongorma将指尖抵在公寓门的锁眼上：只要一点微小的火花，这锁并不深邃……一声轻响，门开了，他赤着脚无声无息地潜入。再来一次，这回打开卧室。

（这怎么可能？）

Pongo站在门口审视Dedus的房间，不敢轻易踏进去。整间屋子被打造成一片安静的林中鱼池。墙壁上尽是苔藓，一些古董嵌在墙体中，天花板上零零散散伸出几根树的突触，它们交合又分裂，像网一样垂落；水从地板下持续不断冒出，很快淹没了整间住宅，没过了他的脚掌；鱼在漂浮的水面上舒展，静静地旋转。他骑着转椅杀死的鱼，无法呼吸的鱼，从他的孩童时期就游弋在Viithorn森林里的鱼。他要找的机器就坐落在正对着门的窗前，既是一颗月光下的鲜红大脑，也是一张床，在池塘中上下沉浮；柔滑细长的纤毛包围着脑，呼吸着，蠕动着，无言地邀请他。

Pongo见到这副景象并没有吃惊，因为Dedus早已在电话里把细节讲得一清二楚了——这全是幻象，来自他模糊不清的回忆。他知道该怎样操作机器，但还是觉得异样，也许是那种无端冒出的自信让他警觉：他觉得自己很熟悉这间屋子，就像在自己的公寓一样自然。Pongo挽起裤管踏进卧室，越是向机器走去，水越是清冷幽深。他在齐腰深的水中打开机器上的几个按钮，努力想要爬上脑床，不料脚下一滑。跌落的他很快被粘稠的水吞没了。

（该死，这个澡又白洗了。）

Pongorma猛地惊醒，仰着头努力地呼吸。微风吹起沙粒黏在他湿润的脸上。他呛咳着吐掉嘴里的沙，摸着自己的脸，发现头盔不见了。

“这里是Afterlife吗？”他望着天上的星星，自言自语道，“我死了？”

“不，我们在观星，仅此而已。”

Pongo转头看了一眼身边躺着的人：Dedus在白色沙漠中悠然自得地数着星星，并邀请他一起。见此，他叹了口气：“看来这只是昨晚那场梦的延续。”

“也可以这么说。只不过你是在机器里做梦，这一切都是梦境的投影。”Dedus解释道，“干得不错，Pon。说实话，我没想到你会留在这里，但你既然来了，为什么不留下和我一起寻找答案呢？我已经得到了我需要的，现在到你了。”

Dedus举起斟满黑色液体的杯，递给邻座的Pongo。Pongo发现，他们不知何时已经坐在了音乐酒吧的吧台。他环顾四周，这是一栋二层楼的酒吧，从上层的吧台看下去，演唱会的细节一览无余。所有人都是生面孔。一楼舞台上是一个四人乐队，灯光耀眼，演奏激情；台下的听众癫狂了，嘶吼着挥舞手臂。Pongo认得那些人的种族，他们是照片中的常客，比饮水机的历史还久远的“古董”。许多人摆出“角”的手势在舞池中上下跃动，他一看那些人热烈的眼神，就明白了那手势的含义。

“为什么现在没有人用‘角’了呢？多酷啊。”Pongo抿了一口杯子里冒冷气的液体，甜丝丝的，让人舌头发麻。

“发生了一点变故，这个种族的大部分文化都没能遗留下来。”Dedusmuln把玩着自己的杯，听里面的冰块咔啷作响，“当他们从Afterlife离开回到故乡的时候，所有的东西都朽坏掉了，当然也包括记载手势的典籍。现在，恐怕他们已经演化成了截然不同的种族，分散在世界各地，忙着重建当年的城市。”

“蠢死了，谁在乎他们的城市啊？享受当下啊，兄弟，音乐才是当下。”Pongo说着，一口饮尽了杯里的甜水，跟着躁动的人群挥舞起“角”的手势来。

“你喝东西真豪爽啊。”Dedus惊讶地笑了，“你还记得咱们第一次去音乐酒吧？你不停地灌酒，结果醉得可厉害了。”

“什么？！”Pongo的视线全在乐队身上，漫不经心地答，“你得说大声点，音乐太吵了！”

Dedus凑近过去，在他的脸颊上亲了一下。

“刚才那算什么？”Pongo盯着邻座的友人，一对水蓝色的眼睛里满是疑惑。

“你喝得太醉了。”Dedus说。他把冰块连同剩下的饮料一起倒进嘴里，咯吱咯吱地嚼。

“我不记得了。”Pongo轻声说，“再来一次，我要确认一下。”

（他的舌头可真冷啊。）

他们又吻了一次。Dedus替Pongo把散乱的红发拨到脑后，亲他的嘴唇，吮吸舔舐表面的糖分。Dedus吻得很深，触角紧紧扣住Pongo的尖角，让他无处可逃。Pongorma挣扎着想要摆脱束缚，但触角的摩擦反倒让Dedus更加兴奋。每当Pongo快要窒息的时候，Dedus就会恰到好处地用一串轻吻给他送进一些空气，让他们的温存得以持续。乐队仍在演奏，但在他们听来，整个世界只剩下血液翻涌的声音。

直到乐队谢幕，听众散去，一切归于寂静，Dedus才肯松开缠绕着Pongo的触角。他们又回到了星空下的沙漠，拥抱着跪坐着，酒吧渐渐凋零成沙。Dedus望着怀抱里喘息的人，惊讶地提醒道：“你在流血。”

他看到，那双深红色的手在慌乱中紧紧抱着他，被盔甲上的尖刺刺穿了，伤痕累累。

“我故意的。”Pongo在平复呼吸的间歇回答道。他翻动自己的双手，向Dedus展示这副激情的杰作。

Dedus笑了，凑近去亲那双鲜血淋漓的手，舔舐新鲜的伤口，顺势俯身将Pongo压倒在沙地上，抚摸他浑身的毛绒。Pongo感到自己在燃烧，失控的电流顺着Dedus修长的手指传递到他的身上，透过衣物灼伤了他的皮肤。

他想到水，想到死。他的全身血肉连同体表的衣物开始融化，Dedus也是——他们不再需要外壳了，回归到最原始的形态。从盔甲中解脱出来的考古学家吻他英俊的骑士，骑士的脸已经从灰白色的骨骼上滴落，他张开嘴去接，黏糊糊的肉汁在他口中又凝结起来，只靠一团肉的细丝粘附着原来的骨骼，摇摇欲坠。

Dedus抬起Pongo的大腿跨坐在他两腿中间，一边亲吻他的头骨，一边用自己流淌着粉色肉液的耻骨去摩擦Pongo湿漉漉的胯下。他的腰动得很快，丰腴的汁水在激烈的冲撞中四处飞溅。Pongo想要大叫，但他的喉咙早就不知融化去了哪里，他猜想那团流淌的器官也许正在Dedus的胃里发泄自己的喜悦。或许是动作太过激烈，Dedus的两条手臂从肩膀处脱落了，无臂的他险些失去支撑，但Pongo一直紧紧地抱着他。他扣在Dedus后背的手指深陷进温暖的肉里，肆意抓挠搅动着粉色的肉汁，几乎可以触碰到他胸腔中腾跃的心脏。

（把我当做泥吧，揉烂我碾碎我，挖空我榨干我，不要停下。）

每一次冲撞都让他们更加偏离人形，最终没有一块骨骼能够继续支撑偏离的肉，他们垮掉了，那之后的一切都不再受他们的控制，只是渴望融合的肉在本能驱使下的行动。很快地，再也不存在Dedusmuln和Pongorma了，偌大的沙漠中只剩下一团混合着不同颜色的肉泥，在沙地上没有目的地蠕动。因为缺少水分，这团肉很快就干瘪剥落，死掉了，只留下一堆穿插交汇在一起的扭曲骨骼，无人能看出原本的形状。

然后起了风，把骨头像泡沫一样吹散。沙漠永远抹去了这一痕迹，好像它们从未存在过。

Pongorma在一阵鸟鸣中转醒。天已经蒙蒙亮，他迷迷糊糊地打量四周，发现自己靠着Smuldunde的肩头，两个人并排坐在湿漉漉的沙发上——这是客厅，但到处都是水淹过的痕迹，低于腰际的家具不是冒着电火花就是肿胀变形；地板上全是湿润的泥沙，有几条鱼在泥坑里抽搐。Pongo捂住脑袋，感到头痛欲裂。他知道自己闯大祸了：究竟什么是幻梦，什么是真实？从他被那个机器吸引的瞬间开始，一切都混乱了。

“我说了，操作机器是很严肃的。”Smul淡然道，“整栋楼都被你给淹了。”

“我会负责的。”Pongo拍了拍自己的脸，试图让自己保持清醒。他注意到Dedusmuln的房间已经被贴上了封条，羞愧难当。

“你有这份心我倒是很高兴啊。不过，我已经把麻烦的家伙都送走了。这对我们来说是常有的事，别放在心上。”Smul正打算把沥干的头盔交还给他，突然想起什么，手上的动作顿了顿，“你要先答应我，你不会再擅闯民宅。”

“我用骑士的名义发誓。”Pongo谦卑地接过头盔，仿佛参与一场受封仪式。

“帮我把家具搬到阳台吧。太阳马上就出来了，这些都得好好晒晒。”Smul说着，熟练地拍了拍Pongo的头盔。

搬运重物本应是份沉闷的差事，可是Smuldunde的求知欲极高，问题一个接一个：你究竟是怎么打开门锁的？对古代机器的兴趣是怎么来的？到底梦见什么东西了？……

“我认得你造出的那片幻境。你是古老时代的遗民，一定有非常多的故事可讲。”Smul对自己的判断很是自信。

Pongo回答时毫不掩饰，把Dedus在电话里传授的撬门技巧和整个潜入计划全部交代了个清楚，甚至把失败后灭口的备用方案也坦白了。Smul听得连连摇头，感叹这两个惹事精的心思实在让人捉摸不透。

他们把最后一样泡水的家具抬到阳台，让完全苏醒的太阳烤干表面水分。Smul从冰柜里取了两盒果汁和Pongo分享，两个人趴在阳台边沿晒日光浴，或俯瞰街道上来去的行人，或远眺嫩绿的远山，悠闲极了。

“在机器里做梦是种很奇怪的体验。我好像在梦里死掉了，但又没有死掉。骨头已经在千百年的时间流转里变成了沙子，我却还能看见沙漠和星空，可是什么也触摸不到，什么也听不到闻不到感觉不到，就好像被永远卡在了一个节点。那真的太可怕了。”Pongo喃喃道，“我依旧在想，如果死比我们现在经历的要漫长许多该如何是好。随便杀死一个人反倒成了一种非常恶毒的事。我很抱歉自己想过杀你。”

“不用自责。这听起来还挺不错的，至少我终于能够摆脱这所有物质去体验纯粹的思考了。”Smul吸了一口果汁，“我已经经历了很多次生命的循环，从幼年成长到老年，再回到刚刚诞生的状态，进入新的生命——生命总是非常繁忙。这脑子（他捶打自己的头）……只是一台粗糙的原始机器，它不会分辨什么重要什么不重要，只是持续不断地记忆着进入我生命的所有物质，新的替换掉旧的，反反复复。我做过很多工作，最后选择用挖掘旧物的方式来对抗自己的大脑，却常常忍不住去想，这种行动究竟意义何在。”

“一样的，老哥，每个人都一样。”Pongo试图拍拍Smul的脑袋，但实在够不到那种高度，于是改拍他的后背，“不过，难道你从来没有持久地记忆一件事、或者一样东西吗？哪怕生命终结依旧还会记得，没有吗？”

“这我得仔细想想。你呢？”

“Viithorn。我想把骑士的故国挖出来，趁我现在还有记住它的能力。”Pongo几乎是脱口而出，“虽然知道它会一直在那儿，但只有亲手挖出来看看才能安心。”

“它不是沉到海底了吗？只靠你自己得花很多年啊。”

“Dedus会帮我的。不过在谈这事之前，我想先让他搬到我那里住。”Pongo把高山上一栋螺壳型的公寓指给Smul看，漆壳外墙在阳光下闪着夺目的蓝色。

“是吗？”

“他一回来就会收拾行李的，所以我想还是提前告诉你比较好。”

“不会吧。”Smul大笑，“你要怎么说服他？”

“我就这样说：我有这种想法已经好几十年了，这是我经过深思熟虑后的结果。我有多次考古的实践经验，很擅长战斗，知道怎样面对危险和处理失误。我的个人事业刚刚起步，可以保证稳定的收入和住所，情况只会越来越好。而且，我会做墨西哥玉米卷饼呢。没有人不喜欢墨卷。”

“你可真是能说会道呀。”看到他这么认真的样子，Smul又忍不住去拍Pongo的头了，“你现在还留着亲手做的墨卷吗？”

“昨天刚做好一盘，在冰箱里放了一夜。”

“我喜欢，隔夜的饼皮比较软。”Smul亲昵地靠在Pongo肩上，指了指Pongo的公寓，“这样子，你回去拿上墨卷，我去拿躺椅和阳伞。我们一起晒晒太阳吃个午饭，继续聊，我还能给你讲Dedus小时候的事情。你觉得怎么样？”

不必说，这绝对是Pongorma这辈子说过最欢欣雀跃的“YES”。阳光普照在New Muldul的每一寸土地，几个世纪以来一如既往。街上人潮拥挤，车水马龙，那艘回程的船两周后就会上路了。他不敢打赌自己比New Muldul上空的太阳还要专一，但直到他和Dedusmuln一起挖出海底的帝国之前，他再也不会为任何事情发愁了。加热我吧，日光。


End file.
